One from the memories... (2nd)

Paint It Yellow

‘Drifter’, that’s how I should be known as, who am I? I’m the youth; I’m today’s India… the new generation. I enjoy my life to the fullest. I love partying, music, action; in short I always want to have a blast with myself. Lets be serious about life… well, I can only be serious up to settling down, getting a good job and that’s it. That’s the extent of my life. My life starts with me and ends with me. Me, who am I? I’m today’s India…the new generation.
It must have been a dreamy night, I guess. And I went back time. I saw my previous self. Hell it was, ruined under foreign power. I saw their deaths. I saw them screaming, I saw them trying to run out of the invincible territory of power. I saw them surrendering themselves to the deep well of death, praying for salvation. I became a silent spectator of the ‘Jalianwalabag’.
Then I saw the little angel walking down the bloody surroundings. I saw him collect the flow of red scarlet. I saw him rise to the persona. I saw him quit his family, his religion and everything I call life. His life was his country, our country…I saw him doing the unimaginable. What was it about him that made him have no fear? I guess sometimes a person can be pushed so far that nothing stops him from doing the right thing, because sometimes that’s hardest thing to do. Then I saw him going for that long last walk; I can never forget those eyes… clear, defined, never wavering; expressing a strange joy inside. I always believed that there are two kinds of men in this world; men who go to their deaths screaming, men who go to their deaths in silence, and then I met a third kind…
It was 15th August 2004. I was sitting on the lawns of ‘Ekaamra Haat’, a handy place for lovebirds in Bhubaneswar. It was around evening and the cool breeze took me back to those thoughts on Bhagat Singh. There was a plastic flag, sporting the tricolour lying near the entrance. Some couples entered preoccupied with their romance and stepping on the flag, though it was clearly visible to them. Something was hurting inside me, urging me to go and give the flag the respect it deserved.
Then I saw the little angel again. I recognized him as the boy who irritates you till you don’t give him something, always stationed near ‘Big Bazaar’ which is at a walking distance from ‘Ekaamra’. He came running, stopped near the flag. His face beamed, he picked it up and went outside dancing on his feet. That was an emotionally draining moment for me. Don’t know, from where two drops rolled out of my eyes and the pain was gone. I felt that Bhagat Singh is still alive within us, only we need to rediscover him. Our blood will show its true colour. We will rise… to be the third kind.
‘We cannot direct the wind, but we can adjust the sails. ’

(Inspired by the hindi movie Rang De Basanti)